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his fingertips trace up along the curve of her spine, nails tickling against her skin so faintly that she's not quite sure if she's dreaming the feeling or if it is actually real, and so she remains asleep, her mind encapsulated with the hope that one day the two of them will return to this place once more, the same room, the same bed.
she's hopeful, of course, as she always is when mornings like this rise. he's so close to her when she's asleep, so close when she's dreaming and all her unconscious mind can stir up is david, all brown eyes and dark hair and pretty smiles. but it's never him when she wakes up, and it especially isn't today. she forgot his name--the boy who was currently doing a fine job of kissing her awake, his lips on her neck and hand resting on the dip between her shoulderblades--but she could very clearly remember seeing him the previous night, remember the touch of his hand on the small of her back, their exchanged laughs as she led him back to her car.
her eyes flicker open, girl momentarily blinded by the bright sun streaming into her bedroom. she releases a soft groan, stretches out her arms and rolls onto her side, eyes meeting his. it's not david. oh, how she wishes she could go back to sleep now. "jeff," she greets, her voice groggy. if it were david beside her, he'd tease her about her morning voice, make fun of the way she sounds before she's downed two cups of coffee. but it's not david, and jeff is much more polite and so he offers the girl a small smile and murmurs out an excuse about how he has to get to work.
it's the same routine it usually is. whatever man sharing her bed stumbles out of her room before she even has the chance to kick them out, leaving her alone. it's a low blow, maybe, going for one of david's friends, but he was around and david wasn't and so she can't really bring herself to feel bad about it.
well, she does feel bad about it. but she'd never admit it, not even to her own brain and so she lets her head hit the pillows again, her fingertips dancing over her silk sheets. "i'm hot," she mumbles to herself, eyes focused on the popcorn-scarred ceiling above her bed. "and rich, and fun. he'd be lucky to have me." it's the same message all of her friends have been drilling into her head for weeks, ever since the last time she'd seen david.
they'd never been officially together, but she'd thought it was established that there was something between the two of them, something that didn't need to be said, was just known. that was her first mistake, she guesses. well, her first mistake would be ever getting involved with david dobrik. falling for him would perhaps be the second.
they'd met in the dark. in the dim lighting of the frat, under the loudness of the music. they spent the entire night talking outside, listening to the crickets chirp and traffic whiz by. she's not quite sure what she expected to come from that night--other than a string of somewhat drunken hookups with david--but she's almost certain that what she got was definitely worse.
what she got, exactly, was something resembling a broken heart manifesting itself in the very moment she found herself in.
with a shaky sigh, she swings her legs over the side of her bed and sits up, head banging with a killer headache. her phone is sat on her nightstand and she knows she should probably check it, answer whatever missed calls she has--and she surely has plenty, because she'd left the party last night with jeff in a hurry as soon as she'd caught david's eyes on her.
